


Victim

by bcbdrums



Category: Kim Possible (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Awkward Sexual Situations, Backstory, Characters Reading Fanfiction, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Exposure, F/M, Fantasizing, Flirting, Graphic Description, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Heroes to Villains, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mutually Unrequited, No Underage Sex, Nudity, Oral Sex, Porn, Porn Watching, Psychology, Sad Ending, Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Unrequited Love, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24266974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bcbdrums/pseuds/bcbdrums
Summary: A/N:  This is another backstory piece for Shego, entirely different from my others in every way.  I consider it wholly AU. But I wrote it anyway.Have you ever gone into a fic and then found out it was darker than you were expecting and then it left you with an ill feeling and deep regret after reading it, wishing you could erase it all from your mind?This is that fic.Frankly, if you don't like dark depressing awfulness...just go back now.  I won't be bothered that you didn't read it.  And if you're under age 18, get lost NOW!  This isn't for you.It contains deeply sensitive themes, graphic language, and graphic descriptions.  The nature of these themes/descriptions are all sexual.  The rating is E for Explicit and this fic is NOT going on FFn.  And before all the horn-dogs start panting, this fic is NOT pleasant.Yes...I am compelled to repeat it a third time.  There is zero happiness in this fic.  It is disturbing.  It is graphic.  Read the tags...but this is not a smut.If I've made you uncomfortable and uncertain, you should really just leave now.  Or boldly and blindly go in, brave reader.  But, I warned you.
Relationships: Dr. Drakken & Shego (Kim Possible), Dr. Drakken/Shego (Kim Possible)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 8





	Victim

**Author's Note:**

> _A/N: This is another backstory piece for Shego, entirely different from my others in every way. I consider it wholly AU. But I wrote it anyway._
> 
> _  
> **Have you ever gone into a fic and then found out it was darker than you were expecting and then it left you with an ill feeling and deep regret after reading it, wishing you could erase it all from your mind?**  
> _  
>  _  
>  **This is that fic.**  
> _
> 
> _Frankly, if you don't like dark depressing awfulness...just go back now. I won't be bothered that you didn't read it. And if you're under age 18, get lost NOW! This isn't for you._
> 
> _It contains deeply sensitive themes, graphic language, and graphic descriptions. The nature of these themes/descriptions are all sexual. The rating is E for Explicit and this fic is NOT going on FFn. And before all the horn-dogs start panting, this fic is NOT pleasant._
> 
> _Yes...I am compelled to repeat it a third time. There is zero happiness in this fic. It is disturbing. It is graphic. Read the tags...but this is not a smut._
> 
> _If I've made you uncomfortable and uncertain, you should really just leave now. Or boldly and blindly go in, brave reader. But, I warned you._

**Victim**

She was alone. And she would always be alone.

She looked back on her life often, wondering.

She wondered if it was fate, or if she had been a target of demons. She wondered if she could have done something differently along the way, made a different choice that would have changed it all.

She wondered if she was just weak.

And worst of all, she wondered alone. She had tried a few times, to bring someone else in. But she was too ashamed to go any deeper than one or two conversations. In the end they were no help, and she was always worse off than she was before.

At least, she had finally been able to pinpoint what started it all.

When she was seven years old, the raven-haired, green-eyed girl rode the school bus. She sometimes sat with her brothers, but usually she sat alone. She had no other friends, and her brothers were sort of...annoying.

One day she sat in the seat second from the back. She had wanted the very back bench, but two of the older boys were always sitting there. On that day they were snickering and trying not to laugh aloud, but she ignored them and studied the bizarre window glass as she always did.

"Hey! Hey!" the one right behind her finally got her attention.

She turned around and leaned up over on the sticky fake-leather back of the seat, looking down at the boy.

"What?" she said with a frown.

"What's your name?"

She told them. "What's your name?" she asked the one who'd spoken.

He ignored her question, snickering with his friend again.

She plopped back into the seat and straightened up her pink backpack, which had slipped.

"Hey!" She turned around. "How old are you?"

"Seven. How old are you?"

"Twelve," he answered this time, and then looked over at his friend. They immediately started laughing.

She didn't get the joke. "What's so funny?" she asked, leaning on the back of the seat again. She felt a bit carsick, which she didn't usually on the bus.

The boys reigned in their snickering. "Do you know what a wiener is?"

"Yes."

"Then what is it?" the second boy finally spoke up.

"A hot dog," she replied.

"No," the first boy said, " _that_ is a wiener!" he said, flipping his pants down in one quick motion.

The second boy fell forward laughing, his head hitting the back of the seat in front of him.

She looked between the two, the first having covered up as quickly as he had exposed himself. But he did it again, and again.

She faced forward again and ignored them for the rest of the ride.

When she got off the bus with her two brothers later, she found herself looking at her older brother differently. Sometimes her mom would stick her and her younger brother in the bath together. But her older brother would always take a bath alone, or sometimes with their younger brother. She had asked before why the three of them didn't bathe together, and both of her parents had just said because their oldest son was a big boy now.

"Mom?" she said quietly when the three siblings had finished walking home from the bus stop.

"What is it?"

She suddenly felt uncertain. "On the bus...a boy pulled down his pants and...and showed me his privates. And it...it was big."

Her mother gasped. "Which boy?"

"I forgot his name."

"Do you remember what he looked like?"

"Yes."

The next morning she pointed the boy out to her mom on the playground, and her mother was dismayed to see that it was a family friend's son. But it was the last she and her mother spoke of the incident.

After school that day, she heeded her mother's instructions and sat at the front of the bus. She was startled when the two boys were suddenly in the seat behind her again. She knew they had been in the back when the ride started.

"Hey!"

She looked over her shoulder at them in annoyance.

"Have you ever had..." The boy reached down and on the back of her seat, slowly spelled out a word that she had never seen nor heard of before. "S...E...X..."

Wanting to get back at them for the day before and maybe get the upper hand, she jutted out her chin at them and said, "Yes."

She had expected the boys to look bothered, or go away since she hadn't answered the way they clearly expected. Instead they looked at each other in excitement and then leaned even further over the back of the seat to talk to her.

"With who?"

Now she was in trouble. What were they talking about anyway?

"My brother," she lied.

The big boys looked less excited. Maybe they would go away now.

"Did you have..." they spelled the word on her seat again, "the right way?"

Suddenly an image entered her mind. It came from no point of reference, and yet it was shockingly clear. She saw an adult man and woman, naked, standing and facing each other, with the man placing his private part in between the woman's legs next touching her private part.

That image...didn't make sense. It seemed like the man's part was supposed to go into something? She mentally reversed the image, so the woman's back was to him. At least with the bottom there was a place to put it, in between the cheeks.

Somehow it still seemed wrong, so she changed the image to what she had first seen. She knew it didn't make sense. She didn't know where the image had come from. But somehow she knew that what she had seen in her mind was the word that the big boys were afraid to say.

"No," she answered, feeling uneasy now.

She lied her way through the rest of their questioning, amusing herself in that they believed every word she said.

That night, she told her mom she wanted to take her own bath that night, without your younger brother. Her mother didn't question it.

Hours later, after she had fallen asleep, she had a nightmare that she hadn't had for years. But it was one that she had had multiple times, and always woke her from fear. It was about her favorite cartoon princess being kidnapped and killed. Each time she had the nightmare some of the details changed, but one thing was always the same. The princess was killed by the bad guy doing something that hurt her private parts.

She had never told her mom about the nightmare, and she didn't still. When her mom asked if the boys had bothered her on the bus again, she said no.

* * *

When she was nine years old, a new girl came to the school. She was immediately popular. At the end of her first week, she gathered as many of the fourth grade girls as she could and took them to the far end of the field on the playground. They all sat in the grass, and the new girl beckoned them close conspiratorially. What special secret were they all about to learn?

"Come here!" she whispered to them, grinning. "So there were these three girls. And one of them said, hey, you wanna be gay? And then they all started climbing on top of each other and making out and rubbing their stuff together."

The new girl clearly thought her secret was amazing, the way she grinned from ear to ear. All of the others just looked at one another uncomfortably.

* * *

That same year, the raven-haired, green-eyed girl's cousin moved in with her family while her mother was in the hospital. Her cousin was only one year older than her, but they were nothing alike. She kept to herself, but her cousin was outgoing; she liked to watch superhero cartoons, her cousin liked to talk on the phone; she was slim, bony, and very much a child, but her cousin...had breasts.

Her cousin only ever talked about boys. She made up stories about them.

_"I went into the bathroom and Bobby followed me. Then I went into the stall and he followed me in there. And then we both started taking off all our clothes, and I said, 'Bobby, why are we doing this?'"_

Her stories were usually about Bobby, a boy in her fifth grade class. She made up a story about Bobby telling her he wanted to see her 'pussy.' The green-eyed girl didn't understand, except that she knew it had something to do with that word the boys on the bus had taught her back in second grade.

At first she teased her cousin about her boy-obsession, but it didn't faze her. Her cousin still just talked about boys, boys, boys. She still wanted her cousin to stop, but since teasing wasn't working, she gave up. And...she was starting to get interested about the strange situations her cousin imagined. Why would she and a boy take off their clothes together in the bathroom anyway?

One night, after watching a cartoon where the superhero falls in love with the villainess, the girl daydreamed about the characters. She daydreamed about them dancing at a fancy ball, about being sad that they could never be together. And then he took her into a dark room, laid her down on the floor, and pulled her dress up as he lay his body atop hers.

That's where the daydream always stopped. She knew something besides kissing was supposed to happen next, but she wasn't sure what.

Another night, when lots of people were over at the house, she and her cousin retreated to their room. She had stopped telling her cousin to stop talking about boys and weird things, but instead listened. And one of her cousins fantasies gained a real life that night.

"So we're the kidnapped superheroes and the bad guys have us tied up. And they're taking our clothes off," her cousin said as they each lay on their beds with the lights out. It was nearly pitch black in the room.

"Why are they doing that?"

"To make us feel stupid. And then they give us drugs to make us fall asleep. So, lay down."

The raven-haired girl complied, and saw the silhouette of her cousin doing the same.

"Now take your clothes off, so we can pretend."

She took off her nightgown, and then feeling quite shy in front of her ample-bosomed ten-year-old cousin, she quietly crept underneath her blankets.

"And then one of our teammates is sneaking in to save us, but there's too many bad guys, so he's just spying on us. And he's like, 'Look, he took their clothes off!' . And then he's watching, and then goes, 'Look, he took their panties off!' Did you take your panties off?"

The girl was uncomfortable. "I don't want to."

"You have to. It's part of the game."

Beneath the blankets, she slid her panties down her legs. "Okay."

"So then he's trying to find a way in, but there's too many bad guys. And he also wants to see what he's doing to do. And we're passed out, remember?"

The girl held stock still. "I know."

"Okay, so then he's watching us and is like, 'They're completely naked!' And then the bad guy spreads their legs apart, and he's like, 'Look he's spreading their legs.'"

She heard her cousin get off of her bed and step over to the foot of her bed.

"Did you spread your legs."

"No," the girl said, very uncomfortable now.

"You have to, it's in the game."

"I don't want to," she said, clamping her legs together and pulling the blankets up to her chin. For the first time, she had a definite understanding of 'wrong.'

"Come on? What are you a—"

At that moment, the bedroom door opened and light from the hallway poured in. The imposing figure of her father stood in the doorway, and she saw in the light that her cousin was fully clothed.

"What are you girls doing?" her father asked.

Her cousin _never_ answered in these situations.

"Playing," she said.

"What are you playing?"

"A game in the dark," she said.

Her father looked at them suspiciously, but closed the door and left. A few minutes later, with her clothing back on, the raven-haired girl followed her dad out into the throng of house guests.

* * *

There was nothing too specific she could pinpoint after that that started her mind working differently. Sure, her mother taught her about 'the birds and the bees' but she was desperately vague about it all, talking mostly about growth hormones. She had to ask her mother to clarify that the man's part actually goes inside the woman to make babies. And she still didn't really understand what was to happen.

Her cousin moved back home after her own mother died in the hospital. Less than a year later, she walked in on her dad and his new girlfriend in bed together. The green-eyed girl now knew what this meant.

Her own fantasies about cartoon characters and book characters grew more frequent, though there were still missing details that she simply didn't understand. She finally fantasized about herself and a boy in her class one afternoon. She even lay out a blanket on her bedroom floor, dressed in underwear that she rolled to make it look like a bikini, and lay on the blanket saying the boy's name and telling him to 'take her.' Whatever exactly that meant.

At a sleepover later that year, the girls started talking about alcohol and about stripping. She flashed her them her fully naked beanpole body. Her boy-crazy cousin was there, and had been shocked.

In middle school she started getting a constant sticky wetness in her panties. She never told her mom, or anyone else, too shy to ask now at the age of twelve and still having a chest as flat as a board. But it was extremely uncomfortable and gross and she had to do something about it. She finally took to shoving her panties deep into the crevices of her privates to try to absorb the moisture. The only problem with that was, she was absentminded about it. And one day when she thoughtlessly did it during class, another girl saw her and shouted out about it in front of everyone.

She cried when caught. The only person who comforted her had been a friend from elementary school, who had been sitting next her that day. Her friend never asked what was really going on, and she certainly never offered. For the rest of eighth grade and all of ninth grade, countless kids she didn't know would approach her and ask her, "Are you the girl who was masturbating in class?"

She always said no. She had never heard that word before and had no idea what it meant. But it was obviously something inappropriate.

When she was fifteen, she finally got her period and her boobs. She had never stopped fantasizing about fictional characters, but she had no crushes and so didn't fantasize about herself anymore.

She got excellent grades and enjoyed studying, but there many classes in high school made boring by teachers who clearly hated their jobs. In sophomore year her English class was the worst. They read awful books about murders and death, and to make things worse, they could no longer read books of their choosing for credit. To get reading credit, books had to come from a list of twelve approved 'multi-cultural books.' And they were all desperately boring.

But one book was being recommended by every classmate. They would all say it was really good and that everyone should read it. So, she did.

On page one hundred and thirty-seven, she understood why. The main character—a teenage boy born into a family of drug dealers, never having had a chance to do anything else with his life—was making out with his girlfriend in the back seat of his car.

The book talked about kissing in a way she had never read before. The characters were using words she had never seen in print, but only heard uttered by the kids who always got into trouble. And it used them liberally. Especially one word beginning with 'F.' But what stood out the most in her mind and obviously all of her classmates' was what happened next.

_"The penis slid down past the pubis and into the vagina."_

She read the sentence over and over again, all of a sudden gaining a new understanding and a new image in her mind.

Later chapters of the book had plenty of similar imagery and language. Coincidentally, she was also taking the mandatory health class that semester and learned a lot more terms and finally gained some useful knowledge.

She never told her mother about the book.

* * *

Due to all of the technological perks she and her brothers got as superheroes, she had regular access to the Internet whenever she wanted. True, it was a dial-up connection, but if not for hearing complaints about their Internet speed from the higher-ups she wouldn't have even known there was a faster connection available.

But it didn't matter to her. What she had worked fine for her purposes.

She still loved to read. And read she did. She discovered websites full of something called fanfiction, and once she had learned how she searched for stories of those superhero characters she had fantasized about so much as a child.

She found them, and they were explicit. She also stumbled upon art of a similar nature, but when a comically large male part was suddenly displayed on the large screen in Go Tower she threw her hands up to block the image from her sight until she could hit the back button.

That was crossing a line.

But reading the stories weren't. She would read them long into the night, after her brothers had gone to bed. And at age sixteen she learned that there was a correlation to the subject matter she was ingesting and the wetness in her panties.

Sometimes, when seated in the round and discussing missions and the other boring stuff that her eldest brother deemed important, she would be reading these stories on her laptop. She knew just when to nod, when to hum in acknowledgement, and when to make meaningful eye contact so that they thought she was paying attention.

She never got caught. And her curiosity grew the more she read. That line she didn't want to cross became thinner and thinner. Until one day in one of these meetings in the round, she went into the search engine and typed that word.

'Sex,' she typed, and turned off the safe browsing settings. The first page was list of websites boasting of their illicit videos. But she would never look at that. Instead, she clicked over to the image results.

Suddenly before her eyes were the voluptuous rear ends of three women all in row, their bodies leaned forward atop the bodies of three men. The men's and women's genitalia were connected in the most intimate of ways and she saw for the first time a glimpse of the naked adult male, as most of the anatomy was out of sight, occupied in intercourse.

She closed the web browser after only seconds. Then she opened it again and cleared her search history and restored the safe browsing settings.

Her four brothers sat around her talking about an upcoming assignment, and she continued to hum and nod at the appropriate times.

* * *

She stuck to reading after that, for years. She balanced hero work with college, and even got a part time job.

Alexandra—Alex to her friends—was a spunky girl who she was glad to have around at the dead-end job. But it helped her get an apartment and some time away from her brothers. Alex also knew everything about everyone.

"Roscoe drinks a lot and doesn't care. He wants to be a writer, but he's too lazy. And stay away from Jeff, he's nothing but a skirt-chaser. He flirts with all the female employees."

It was only a matter of days before the young, twenty-one year old Roscoe revealed everything she needed to know about him.

"We give everyone here nicknames," he said. It was always slow in the shady electronics store, and the two of them were standing at the registers being paid to do nothing.

"Oh yeah?" she said, not caring. The attitude she'd had on the bus at age seven had persisted up through her nineteenth year. But she was far less polite as an adult than she had been as a child.

"Yeah," Roscoe said, smiling to the kid next to him—some sixteen year-old who acted about ten had just been hired, and was likewise being paid to do nothing. "I've decided to call you...Angel Dust Fluffer."

The kid was trying to stifle his laughter, while Roscoe merely grinned at her.

She raised an eyebrow at them as she leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms.

"Do you know what that means?" Roscoe asked with his grin.

"Nope," she said. She actually didn't care.

"Angel Dust is a drug. Ever heard of PCP?"

"Sure. Me and my brothers busted up a dealership that was operating out of a pharmacy last year."

The kid stopped laughing as he remembered who his coworker was. Roscoe merely continued looking at her in challenge.

"And a 'fluffer' is the person who...gets the porn star ready before he shoots a scene."

Her expression didn't change. She was sort of curious now, but she wasn't about to let him know that.

"She has to get him erect," Roscoe continued, "and then he goes and does his scene with another woman."

"Whatever," she said, shifting her weight to her other foot.

Her young male coworkers took great pleasure in her apparent inexperience. Of course, she never let on about the things she read on her laptop on the horrible dial-up connection in Go Tower. Playing ignorant and seeing just how far they would go was the most entertainment she'd had in months, considering all of the Go City villains were so lame and boring, just like her brothers.

The most interesting thing at her minimum wage job however, was the middle-aged skirt-chaser, Jeff.

"He's finally leaving me alone," her punky coworker Alex told her over lunch one day.

"Yeah?" the green-eyed girl replied, chewing her sandwich.

"Ever since you got here, he's stopped following me around and staring at my ass."

The green-eyed girl wondered then... Was he following her around and she had just failed to notice?

She began paying attention to the older man with scraggly grey hair, stocky limbs, and grizzled face.

He was unattractive in every way. Her ideal man was one of her comic book or cartoon heroes from the old days—just muscular enough but not overly so, clean-cut, chiseled jaw, and a dazzling smile. Her coworker was short, stocky, poorly-dressed, had shoulder-length hair, and crooked teeth.

But it didn't matter. Because as she started paying attention, she realized he was looking at her in a way the boys in high school and at college never did. He looked at her like she was a woman.

And she knew she was... She had a figure, though she was still too thin. She thought she was pretty enough, and wore enough make-up to be trendy. But she didn't feel like a woman.

She was a superhero. No one had ever asked her on a date. Unless she counted the boys who called out to her from across the hall, or that one who had groped her rear at a high school dance and then proceeded to ask her out every time he had seen her. No, those didn't count.

She didn't know why she suddenly though this dinosaur of a coworker would. But of course, she had no idea how mixed-up she had let her mind become.

She began experimenting with the way she looked at him. How close she stood to him. The way she would smirk and lean over the register counter when the older salesman would walk by. And before long she was certain—he was looking at her rear when she walked away.

One day she went into his section of the store and stood behind his counter next to him, almost touching his shoulder with hers. She didn't know what, if anything, they were talking about. Her single-minded goal at her dead-end job had become to learn how to flirt, and this man was her target.

"Okay Shego, go away now, you're affecting my man stuff."

That had only made her want to lean her arm closer to his. Did he...did he mean...?

She leaned off of his shoulder and after a few minutes walked away. She still didn't really have a clue what she was doing. Except she knew...somewhere over the course of the weeks it had gone beyond her experimenting.

Now, she wanted him to look at her.

On a day when she bought a chocolate bar from the store across the street, she came back with the express purpose of eating it in front of him. She bit the end of the bar and dragged the rest of it down her lip and gave him what she didn't even realize was a bold, seductive smile. He laughed and walked away, quickly averting his eyes.

Another day she wore a skirt and heels—totally inappropriate for her job—and timed her arrival at work with his so he would see her get out of the car. His words caught in his throat at the sight of her legs, and he grinned at her.

Yet another day she wore a blouse with pockets on the front. This one had been an accident, and she was actually trying to tone down the flirting... There was a rapid, fierce fluttering in her chest now whenever she saw him that she knew wasn't right.

"Nice shirt," he said, staring unashamedly at her chest.

"Thanks," she said with no ulterior motive. She only realized later that the pockets on her blouse made her rather small bosom look larger.

She wore skirts more. And she started fantasizing about herself again, for the first time since she was ten years old. She fantasized about her ugly, mid-forties coworker Jeff pushing her up against the side of her car and kissing her. She imagined him opening her car door and laying her down across the driver's seat and center console. She imagined him climbing over her and unbuttoning her shirt, revealing her black bra.

That's as far as it went. Despite the wetness that was back in her panties that she still naively didn't quite comprehend, she had no real context for taking the fantasy further. The stories she had read on the Internet were graphic, like the book she'd read in high school, but it wasn't enough to complete the picture.

But she enjoyed the fantasy. The fluttering in her chest grew worse...and she liked it.

* * *

Shego had been fired on her twentieth birthday, for no reason. But at a dead-end job like that, reasons didn't matter. She was shocked and surprised, and wondered if Jeff had had anything to do with it. She had been mentally working her way towards making some sort of real suggestion towards him, and not just fantasizing. But that was all taken away.

She continued in college and working with her brothers. She got excellent grades, except for one class she rarely made it to due to the work with Team Go getting in the way. She had to re-take that one.

And she continued reading on the Internet.

Something was changing about the wetness in her panties. She liked it now. She had hated, hated, hated it from middle school onward whenever it occurred. But now for some reason she wanted it. And it didn't come anymore unless she was reading something that was explicit. But suddenly, she wanted it.

And that changed everything.

One weekend when hero-work had been light, she spent almost all night reading. Her panties had been soaked, and she'd buried them in the hamper after wiping them with toilet paper and cleaning herself in the same manner.

She'd gone about the next day very tired from lack of sleep, doing her weekend homework and being generally lazy since no villains seemed to be doing anything. She avoided her brothers that day, since despite her late-night exploits being ended, her new pair of panties were rapidly getting soaked.

Halfway through the day she was annoyed with the sensation that wouldn't end and jumped in the shower. The horrible stickiness was even on her rear.

For whatever reason, her bathroom didn't have a shower head on a hose. And she was suddenly disgusted by the idea of cleaning herself in that area with that gross discharge of which she didn't even understand the origin or purpose.

She switched the shower over to the tub faucet, and the hot waters began thundering down against the white porcelain.

Sometimes when Shego was on her period, she would lay on her back in the tub and slide her crotch under the hot water from the faucet. The heat helped the cramps, but she had to be very careful as there was one sensitive spot that always hurt if the flowing waters hit it. She didn't know what that spot was or why it would hurt.

Now, she wanted the water to wash away that horrible stickiness that she had caused by reading explicit fiction online. She lay on her back and lifted her legs up to the shower wall, sliding down with ease toward the running water to get herself clean.

Barely a second beneath the water had passed when she felt an indescribable sensation down in her crotch. It caused her toes to curl, her chest to convulse as if hit with defibrillator paddles, and her eyes to bug out.

After a moment of heavy breathing she reached up and turned off the faucet. She was in a panic. What had just happened to her?

 _'Orgasm,'_ her mind filled in the word she had learned in health class.

After another minute of panicked, heavy breathing she got out of the shower, dried off, and went to resume her day with a deeply furrowed brow. Immediately, a truth cemented itself in her mind about what had just happened: no one could ever know.

* * *

Shego's brow remained furrowed for a week. Her entire body felt different. But mostly her crotch and her thighs. She felt dirty, and as if her brothers would be able to tell just by looking at her. She decided that day that she was done with looking at things she knew she shouldn't on the Internet. And she would never, ever again do something so reckless and naive as stick her crotch under running water if _that_ could happen. She wasn't naive anymore.

* * *

Neither promise lasted.

She made it several months before curiosity got the better of her, and she found herself in the bath tub again.

That second time, the reaction wasn't instantaneous. In fact, the hot water ran out and became cold before she was able to trigger it. And it wasn't as...startling, as she remembered.

She tried again a couple of months after that, with the same result.

And then she began attempting it more frequently. She learned to put her hands under her hips to elevate them, so she could move her clitoris—another health class term—under the stream of water. That encouraged the reaction to come.

But she later learned that what made it come the fastest, were the dirty thoughts.

Now that she'd experienced an orgasm, her curiosity was absolutely bursting about what sex actually looked like. But she hadn't been reading anything bad online anymore. So one afternoon after a horrible fight with her eldest brother about her going to college and not spending enough time with the team, she found herself taking the safe search settings off her web browser again.

Why did her brother have to be such a jerk, anyway? Why was it wrong of her to want to do something with her life other than save people from muggers and freaks who dressed like birds? And weren't they freaks themselves, with their rainbow costumes and mutated skin and hair colors, and freakish powers?

None of them had real friends, or any relationships. Her relationship with her parents had died the day of her first orgasm, as she could no longer look them in the face and avoided them at all costs. And her brothers seemed to annoy her more than ever now, as she tried to hide the shame that she was still feeding into.

So after Hego suggested that college was just a waste of the 'gift' she'd been given in _being_ Shego, and he informed her that the rest of the family agreed, she had locked herself in her room and grabbed the familiar refuge of her laptop.

 _'Porn'_ she typed hesitantly into the web browser. Countless websites instantly appeared. She was surprised it was that easy.

She picked one among the first three, logic telling her that the more 'professional' looking title would be the least likely to drop viruses on her computer, and then on the slow dial-up connection the page slowly loaded.

Horrendous images began filling the screen, and she threw her hands up as she had done in the past when something inappropriate appeared outside her control. She squinted her eyes like she used to do as a kid when watching a PG-13 movie and began peering through her fingers.

One video thumbnail had a woman's rear up in the center of the screen with her own hand shoving something purple and large into the wrong hole. Shego covered that image with her hand and looked at another. That one showed two women rubbing their clean-shaven crotches together. Shego quickly covered that one back up as well, and thought of her own hairy privates.

The next thumbnail she peeked at showed a girl laying down on a pool table with a man over her. She allowed her eyes to open beyond slits and actually looked at it. That seemed promising for her purpose of simply discovering what sexual intercourse actually looked like.

She carefully moved her mouse to click on that one without seeing any of the other thumbnails. And the video slowly began to load.

She blinked in surprise at the sight of two naked teen couples, the camera being carelessly passed back and forth by the boys. Shego's hero-instincts immediately took over as she wondered why there were clearly underage teens on a website like that! But the girls were smiling as they kissed their boyfriends—presumed boyfriends—and she wondered if consensual sex between teens was considered illegal.

Pornography was, of course. But she was there watching it. And if it was illegal, she couldn't do anything about it without revealing how she knew.

Her heart raced at the idea of being caught, but she pushed it aside and focused on the video.

At one end of the pool table, one girl was bent forward over it while her boyfriend penetrated her from behind. At the other end of the table, it was the boy who lay on his back with his girl on top of him, her hips rocking as she faced away from him.

Shego watched in morbid fascination throughout the entire seven and a half minutes as the positions changed a few more times. Her hands flew to her face in disgust when the girls began sucking on their boyfriends' penises, and she very nearly closed the video when two girls began licking one of the boys at once. And Shego thought she certainly would be sick when one of the boys started licking at his girlfriend's clean-shaven privates.

Shego was so fascinated and horrified at the same time that one thing almost escaped her notice. But then it was suddenly all she could see.

The faces of the two girls were not happy. They looked tired, pained, and as if the experience wasn't pleasurable at all. But the boys were laughing and having a great time.

It...was consensual, wasn't it? There didn't seem to be anyone else in that room with them, as the teen boys passed the camera back and forth.

Did it mean that there was something about the experience itself that wasn't pleasurable?

There were too many questions without answers. But Shego had seen enough. And the video ended just as abruptly as it had started, as if it was just a clip from something larger.

She wiped her browser history, closed it, and then ran a virus scan on the computer.

Somehow...the satisfaction and understanding she had hoped to find seemed farther away than ever.

* * *

Within the next five years, Shego became bolder about visiting those websites. Especially after getting her college degree and permanently moving out of Go Tower. In her tiny apartment she continued her experimenting, frequently walking around topless and even sleeping naked to see what that felt like.

She had learned from a porn video about stimulating her breasts and her clitoris by hand, and would experiment with that sometimes in different parts of her apartment. She would sometimes even do it while watching an explicit video. That always felt wrong somehow, and her favorite place was the bath tub.

But that felt wrong too.

Meanwhile, teaching was going horribly. It seemed that she could do nothing right. And as it turned out, there was no manual or how-to book on being a teacher. Getting a degree and credential meant absolutely nothing, and when she actually got hired at an elementary school in downtown Go City she felt as though she had been thrown to the wolves in that fifth grade class.

Sure, she had the kids' fascination of her as a superhero going for her. But she still didn't know what to _do_...

Not to mention, she was growing more and more depressed every day. She was on her own, accomplished, independent....and alone.

She still had no friends, and she barely had her brothers anymore as she went on fewer and fewer missions. She felt too guilty. And she kept telling herself she would stop with the websites and the bathtub and the things she did in her bed, but...she couldn't stop.

Was she an addict?

She didn't think so...because she no longer enjoyed it.

Well, that wasn't true. She enjoyed the very, very brief moment of release she got too often under a stream of icy water. But that was it. And it wasn't ever as good as that first one.

It was that hope of a repeat of the first time, and the curiosity of something fulfilling on one of those websites that kept her trapped.

* * *

After the summer of her third year teaching, Shego handed in her resignation. She was doing all right, but there was always a criticism in her evaluations. She had no friends among her co-workers... She had no friends at all. And she had quit Team Go altogether.

She had started trying to get her kicks in ways other than the explicit ones that had seemed to haunt her since she was seven years old, and the one that was most effective was thievery.

Wearing all black, with a ski mask and her hair concealed, she wasn't recognizable. And so petty thefts from convenience stores and bars in the worst part of town gradually became bigger and bolder daylight break-ins at mall jewelry stores and a bank robbery with the teller at gunpoint.

The gun wasn't loaded though. She felt ridiculous even holding it, when she had her powers that were the far better weapon. But to use them would be to reveal her identity. She was surprised no one had guessed it so far. And she was finally realizing...she wanted them to.

She wanted everyone to know that she had fallen. She wanted her brothers and the world to know that Go City's precious green princess wasn't anything like they made her out to be. Her entire life was nothing but a waste, spent in an addiction and an obsession that was no one's fault but her own.

She had all but forgotten about her cousin, and the girl from fourth grade, and the boy on the bus when she was seven years old, who had started her down the ill-fated path. No, Shego had done this to herself.

She had no choice but to become a villain.

* * *

Working for Dr. Drakken was great. She had wealth to spend at leisure, and spend it she did! She had vacations, massages, manicures, and a wardrobe that would be the envy of any celebrity. She could fight and take out her aggression on anyone, but taking it out on little-miss-perfect Princess Possible was the best. Everything in her wanted to kill the girl who had it all.

The girl who had gotten it right.

But she didn't, because killing her would mean she would have to get her kicks elsewhere. And she wasn't keen on searching for a new distraction from the reality of the horrible person she was.

There was also Drakken, who was amusing sometimes, annoying most of the time, and yet...he provided stability. He was rich enough somehow that there was always a paycheck for her, and occasionally some of his ideas sounded good on paper. Not to mention, he left her alone unless he needed her for a scheme, and never got too personal; he was too wrapped up in himself to pay her any attention, desired or otherwise.

It was the perfect set-up for Shego's life and she lived it freely for the first time in her life, for three too-brief years.

Until the Li'l Diablos. And Kim Possible again. And prison.

The months of incarceration had sent Shego back into the far-worse prison of her mind. And it was in her solitary cell, laying on the uncomfortable mattress, after one o'clock in the morning on an ice-cold night...that she gave in to the boredom and dismay at having her freedom taken.

She slipped her hand beneath the waistband of her panties.

Everything started up again after that. Escaping from prison and getting her funds and her freedom back didn't cure it this time. Even resuming work with Drakken after the sordid incident with the alien and realizing that he may just in fact be her friend couldn't stop the addiction. And it was worse than ever.

She watched porn without a thought. She discovered what she liked and didn't like to watch. She even dared to un-mute the computer volume sometimes. Not that anyone would come into her room and interrupt her...although, on rare occasion Drakken _had_ barged in... She kept the volume on the lowest setting.

She understood that the supposed happiness and pleasure in the actors' faces was all fake. She watched enough to know that for sure. And each video was nothing but a variation on the last. They were boring.

The bathtub seemed like too much effort, so she got used to just rubbing herself out. A few times she even slid her middle finger within herself when the desire to be penetrated—a desire she'd still never fulfilled in any way—was too strong. She fantasized about nothing, about nameless faces where there was no emotional connection. She tried to fantasize about herself to make it better, but there was no man in her mind to be the other half of the coupling.

All of it failed to satisfy.

She understood more than ever why society warned against this, frowned upon it, why sex was such a taboo... It was clearly something powerful. But it had the power to destroy when approached wrong, as it had done to her. And if approached right...she had no idea. And there was no way she ever could.

Drakken noticed her depression. He even slowed down on schemes to watch her more closely, and occasionally even offered to send her on a vacation. Once he asked her out to dinner.

That had alarmed her until she realized it was just a friendly gesture. And damn him, he _was_ her friend. How it had happened she didn't know. But he was her friend...her _only_ friend. And there was nothing he could do to help her.

When the aliens returned and captured him, she was desperate to get him back. He was the only positive in her life. Even though she hated herself and couldn't imagine ever being happy again, he was her single speck of light.

She loved him. She wasn't _in_ love with him, she knew that much. But she loved him... And she wouldn't rule out the possibility of falling in love with him someday.

That idea of 'love' rather than just 'friendship' pressed against her mind far more frequently after the alien invasion was over, and after his flower mutation had brought her close to his side on the stage at the UN. He hadn't seemed terrified that time, as he'd been when she'd been under the influence of the moodulator. No, at the UN he just looked shy and was blushing.

Could he have feelings for her?

All of it became an awful jumble in her mind, as she wondered mostly about her own feelings. She wondered if she was mistaking her friendly affection for him as more, or if it was just her desperation for connection to another human. She had reached for him up on that alien ship... She was desperate for a hug. She couldn't remember the last time she had been touched by someone, except during a massage. But those didn't quite count... Because they lacked the emotional connection.

She wanted emotional connection. She wanted a _friend_. She wanted someone to talk to, to tell the entire horrible tale of her life to, and cry over two decades-worth of un-shed tears to. Someone who would console her and say she was still worth something as she wept.

That was how Drakken found her one day on the sofa, laying on her side with tears running down her face and into the cushions. And that was the day it finally all crashed down around her, and her self-destruction was complete.

"Shego... I...um... Is this about my considering not being evil anymore? Because if...if you really want me to stay evil, I will."

The flow of her tears increased as she listened blindly to his words, not looking up to where he stood over her.

_'He would give up the fame for me... Does he love me?'_

She closed her eyes tightly on the thought. It didn't matter if he loved her. Because...

"Please...tell me what's been bothering you? If I did something, I...I want to fix it."

_'He thinks it's his fault...'_

It was no one's fault. It was just hers. Hers and her stubborn attitude. If only she hadn't been so afraid when she was young... If only she'd told her mother about that graphic book she'd been made to read in high school...

Drakken knelt down on the floor so his face was in front of hers. She focused only long enough to see his deep worry before letting her gaze drift again.

"I don't mind being evil, if that's what it is. I want...I want to do whatever makes you happy."

If only she had been brave enough to ask her mother about the wetness in her panties in middle school, about what it meant. If only she had used her stubborn attitude back then to pry deeper when her mother barely explained 'the birds and the bees.'

"I know that sounds...strange," Drakken continued, rubbing the back of his neck. "But it's true. I...I chickened out, on the ship. I guess my flowers were trying to make up for it the other week at the UN."

If only she had told her mother about her cousin, and the horrible inappropriate influence she had been. If only she hadn't talked to those boys on the bus...

"Either way, evil or good, it's...it's up to you. Because I...I...." Drakken looked away with a slight growl, and Shego turned her teary eyes to where his were now pinched shut. "Because the truth is... I love you! There, I said it. I love you, Shego. Go on, mock all you want. I know it's ridiculous, someone like me...and someone like you," he glanced up warily as he gestured between them. "But I...I can't help it. I think I've been in love with you since the day we met. And I never...ever would have told you! I know how absurd the idea is. Except..."

Shego finally focused on his eyes, her tears stilling.

"Except it looked like...you were going to hug me. On the alien ship. Before I panicked. And I...I wondered...if you might...have feelings for me too? I'm sorry, I know that's...that's impossible." He looked down. "But please...don't leave. You're worth taking the risk. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... No, I'm not sorry. I almost died! And I love you. And it's fine if you don't love me, but...I'll do whatever you want. Evil or good. If you'll please stay with me? I'll never say another word about...about my feelings. It's enough for me, if we just...go on like we always have... Shego...? Why aren't you saying anything?"

It didn't matter if he loved her...and it didn't matter that she loved him back. Because she had ruined herself. She didn't know if she would ever be able to feel sexual pleasure, or give it in return. And he would surely want that... That's what all people wanted, wasn't it? That's why terrible life-ruining things like porn existed.

No. There was no way she could ever make him happy. And it hurt even worse now to know that she had to break his heart.

And her life would continue in nothingness now, since she couldn't bear to stay. To stay and know they loved each other, and to be unable to give him the happiness someone as caring as him deserved... It was a pain worse than death.

And in the back of her mind, it kept ringing like a gong. She had done it to herself. She was the sole reason her life was nothing but pain, and that pain was all she could ever experience. Not a single Team Go platitude about turning her life around and that she had just been a victim of circumstance could change what she knew was true. It was her fault, and hers alone.

Shego sat up on the sofa as tears fell heavier down her face. She reached a gloved hand up to cup Drakken's cheek. He glanced at her hand anxiously, and then held his breath as he stared into her eyes.

She struggled for nearly a minute to find her voice. When she did it came out in only a hoarse whisper.

"You deserve more. I...I can't give it to you."

Drakken's breath caught and he grabbed her hand. She slowly pulled it away as his eyes widened in worry.

"I'm sorry. Goodbye, Dr. D."

She stood and left the lair, and never came back.


End file.
